Catch
by Jedi Cosmos
Summary: Harry's 19 and a normal college student, with no memory of his past at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Too bad that's all about to change.
1. sealed memories

**Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I wouldn't waste my time on fics—I'd go for the real thing. (And this applies for the rest of the fic so I'm not going to repeat it, even though it's sorely obvious.)******

**Summary:** Harry's 19 and a normal college student, with no memory of his past at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry—but what happens to him when all of a sudden, everyone in the wizard world is hunting him down—both to help him and to kill him? Humor/Action/Drama fic R/R!****

**Author's Note: Okay, here's another fic from me.  Depending on whether or not people like it, I'll write more (hint: I like reviews...a lot....)  It just came to me while listening to a really hyper Japanese song...  Hope you like it!**

**sealed**

**memory**

Harry Potter sighed and ran his hand through his short-cropped black hair, sticking his tongue out, and poking at the buttons of a calculator, frustrated.  "I hate finances…"

Jewel Johnston, one of his three other roommates laughed and handed him a mug of coffee.  "We all do," she replied cheerfully, plopping into her seat at the round table.  "You're the only one nice enough to do it on time."

She was a short girl, with very long, curly brown hair and dark brown eyes.  She wore small, oval-rimmed glasses that made her look very intelligent.  She was a cheerful girl that Harry had been friends with ever since they could remember, and a very wise person, despite the young age of nineteen.  She was very caring, and looked out for her friends as she would were they family, but she had a limited temper.

Harry sent her a glare, but she was too busy taking a tentative sip of her coffee to care.  He sighed and glanced at his watch, thoroughly annoyed.  It was already eleven at night, and he had a test the next morning….

"I'm going to sleep," he muttered to Jewel, pushing the mug and calculator away from himself.  "Tell Kent and Caity that they have to workout next month's rent."

Jewel grinned.  "Oh, you _know_ you'll be doing it next month, too."

Harry blew another breath, and shrugged.  "I try."

Jewel laughed and waved at him behind her back, pulling the papers and calculator in front of her, and staring blankly at the paper before knitting her eyebrows, and poking at the buttons uncertainly.  Math was never one of her, ah, strong points.

Harry grinned half-heartedly to himself before tiredly making his way up the stairs to his room.  He groaned as he realized that he had to wake up early to study, but was really too sleepy to care about it.  He pushed open the door to his room, flicked the lights on, and found that it wasn't as unoccupied as he thought it would be.

The least strange of all the things in his room started at the windowsill.  There was an owl at his window, and Harry's mind would have registered that it was a big, snowy, and beautifully white owl that seemed a little more than familiar, had he not been frozen stiff.

His bemused green eyes traveled to an enormous, huge, black dog sitting quietly on his bed.  The dog raised his head when the door had opened, and though he sat where he was, his tail was wagging furiously.

Beside the dog, the most bizarre thing Harry had ever seen, or dreamed of seeing, was perched on the chair.  It was a bird—_I think_, Harry's numbed mind thought—but of a species that Harry was sure was unheard of.  It looked like it was on fire, and Harry's first reaction was the urge to go and hose it down.  It had big, black beads for eyes, and a tail with feathers so long that would give a peacock a run for its money.

Harry stiffened further as the large bird swiveled his beautiful head at Harry.  It blinked at Harry.  And then it started to sing.

For some reason, the bird's song calmed his heart—but not his mind.  Harry took one step back, slammed the door, and literally flew down the stairs, scaring Jewel out her wits.

"You freaked me out!" Jewel exclaimed, steadying the hand that was still holding her mug of coffee.  "What made you do that?"

Harry didn't reply, but sat back down, in such a daze that he didn't even seem to know or understand what he was doing or where he was.  He took quick, short sips of his somewhat cold cup of coffee, and put the mug down.  A few moments later, he picked the mug back up, took another few sips, and set it back down.

The fifth time this happened, Jewel snapped her head up at him, and asked forcefully, "What's wrong?"

Harry, for the first time, took notice that he was in the kitchen of his the large flat he was sharing with his three friends.  He peered at Jewel intently.

"I think," he said, very seriously, "that I'm going crazy."

Jewel stared at him, and slowly placed her cup on the table.  She dropped the pencil down, and leaned back in her chair.

Just as seriously, she replied, "I think so too."

"Really?" Harry said despairingly, slamming the coffee down and running his hands through his hair.

Jewel nodded.  "Really."

Harry rubbed his eyes and moaned.

Jewel watched with no emotion on her face…but suddenly, a wide smile spread on her face as she laughed.  "Gosh, I was kidding.  What makes you think you're crazy?"

Harry looked back up at her, and said, "I-I saw something really strange."

Jewel's teasing expression became one of genuine concern.  "Where?  In your room?  What was it?"

Harry stopped for a moment, figuring it was a good question.  What _was_ that bird?  He shook his head.  "An owl, a big dog, and a bird that was on fire."

Jewel's expression became firm.  Standing and pulling Harry after her, they went up the stairs.  She pushed the door open.

There was nothing there.

Jewel let out a breath that neither had realized she had been holding.  She turned to Harry, and crossed her arms over her chest, looking worried and relieved all at once.  "You're probably tired," she said soothingly.  "Don't worry—math does that to everyone."

Harry bit his lip, and stopped staring out the window to give her a look.  "You believe me, don't you?"

Jewel avoided his eyes and looked out the window.  "If you say it's true, I believe you," she said, turning back to look Harry in the eye.  As she walked out of the room, she called motherly, "Get some sleep, Harry, dear!"

"Yes, Mum," Harry replied.  It was an old joke of theirs…but Harry wasn't nearly as sarcastic this time as he was supposed to sound.  He closed the door, ran his hand through his hair once again, shook his head, and turned back to change for bed.  He had decided that Jewel was right, and that he probably was in dire need of sleep.  The math had done it to him.

Once he had, he turned to turn his desk light off.  Just as his hand had almost reached the switch, his eyes caught something on his desk that hadn't been there before.  Frowning, he reached for it, the texture of the paper surprising him.  Turning it over in his hands, he realized it wasn't normal paper, but rather, some old bit of parchment.  _Hm,_ he thought, _I don't remember ever buying this kind of paper_….__

He opened the parchment, and after he read it, he gasped. In emerald green ink, the parchment bore a simple message:

_Time to come home, Harry._

Harry Potter did not sleep that night.

**memory**

**end**

**A/N: And so ends chapter one! I really hope people like this…If I decide to continue this, and if you want me to e-mail you when a new chapter is up, leave your e-mail address in a review ^-^ **

~Jedi Cosmos~


	2. making decisions

**Author's Note:** Here's part two!  I guess the first was somewhat of a prologue.  But I've thought this story out and think it'll be a nice, fun story with a plot.  Major plot.  Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I really appreciate them!

This fic is going to go by short parts.  Short, because then they'll come out faster, and I want them to be short, unlike the Phoenix Gate.  New chapter should be coming soon :)

**making**

**decisions**

The alarm woke Harry with an unpleasant ringing in his head.  Groaning as he rolled over, he slammed his palm against the clock a few times, eventually succeeding in shutting it off.  Peering blearily at the red numbers, he realized that he only had an hour to study.

Getting up slowly, Harry showered, dressed, and stuck his contacts in.  He had gotten contacts...about two years ago, he thought, because they were just easier.  Making himself a cup of coffee, he took a tentative sip as he sat in front of the textbook.

The more Harry read about the rise and fall of Napoleon, the more his mind wandered.  He didn't even know what he wanted to do—become a doctor?  A politician?  What was the _point_?  With a bit of disgust, he shut the book and refused to look at it again.

Going to the kitchen and settling on a cozy chair around the table, the same place he had been seated the night before, Harry thought about the note that he had received the previous night.  '_Time to come home, Harry_.'  _Well_, Harry thought with a derisive snort, _it certainly isn't the Dursleys_.

He suddenly had the feeling that something—someone—was watching him.  He didn't move, but his muscles tensed.

He heard a shuffle from behind him, and looked over his shoulder to find Kent, his best friend, yawning widely before sitting in the chair across from Harry.  Harry shook his head slightly, and took another sip of his coffee.  Putting his disturbing thoughts aside, and pushing his bangs from his eyes, Harry grinned widely.  "Hey, Kent old pal…."

Kent groggily looked up at Harry from the tabletop, retrieving a pasty from the box beside him.  "What do you want?" he grumbled.

Kent Stuart had bright blue eyes, framed by brown hair that was cut very short.  He had a pierced ear, and was tall, and unlike Harry, very strong-looking.  He looked like a bully on the outside, but as his long-time girlfriend Caity had put it, he was as mushy as applesauce on the inside.

"You know that you're the bestest friend in the world?"

Kent squinted at Harry now, his eyes narrowed, posture slumped horribly over the table, chewing his pasty methodically.  Harry did his best to smile innocently.

Kent put his forehead on the table and groaned.  "You're too damn cheerful, did you know that?"

Harry shook his head.  "You tell me the same thing _only_ every day."

Waving a hand lazily in the air, his lethargic friend replied, "That's besides the point.  Anyway.  What'd you want?"

Dropping his "innocent" approach, Harry gave Kent a pleading expression.  "Can I skim through your history notes?"

Kent grunted, managing to move his head the slightest bit, only to crinkle his forehead and stare at Harry incredulously.  "Is that _all_?"

Harry raised an eyebrow, but nodded anyway, shrugging as he did so.  Then he frowned.  "What'd you expect?"

Kent shrugged back at Harry—Harry could only tell because Kent's visible shoulder bobbed a little.  "Eh…something else.  Don't know what, though."  He narrowed his eyes at Harry.  "Why didn't you do the reading?"

Harry glared at Kent, his voice flat as he spoke.  "Well, you know, I woke up yesterday and went to school, after which I got back and went to work, then came back late, and got stuck calculating most of the rent."

Kent's eyes widened for a moment.  "OH.  I forgot about that."  He looked up at Harry meekly this time.

Harry rolled his eyes.  "Just like every time."  He sighed.  "Well, let me read your notes and we're even."

Kent got up to retrieve his notes from the room over.  "I'm really sorry, Harry, I swear I'll do it next time."

Harry waved Kent's promise away as he took another sip of coffee.  "Don't bother, you know I'll get stuck doing it next month, and the one after that…."

"Didn't Jewel help?" Kent asked as he handed his composition notebook to Harry.  "She was home yesterday, wasn't she?"

Harry rolled his eyes as he reached for the notebook, opening it and propping it on his knees and against the table.  "You know just as well as the rest of us do that even if Jewel _did_ volunteer to do the rent, we shouldn't let her.  She hates mathematics with a passion, and she has bad karma when it comes to it, anyway.  She finished the calculations for me last night, but I still have to go back and double check it, just to make sure it's right."

Kent shrugged, and slumped towards the counter.  Putting some hot water to boil, he leaned against the counter and cocked his head to the side, observing Harry.  His eyes were squinting – because he was half-asleep, of because he was trying to see better, Harry couldn't tell.

"Where do you plan on going during the break?"

The simple question made Harry sighed, and looked up at his friend.  "I was thinking maybe a trip back to London."

Kent blinked.  "To the Dursleys?"

Harry laughed.  "No.  A visit to my parents' graves, their old home.  I haven't been there in a while.  Need to clean it up a bit."

Kent sobered, and continued to watch Harry in a sad way.  Kent swiveled and grabbing a cup, he poured the steaming water into it.  Grabbing a teaspoon and the can of ground coffee, he dumped in two spoons, added some creamer, and two packs of sugar.  Sitting back on the table, he looked at Harry imploringly.  "You shouldn't go alone.  Maybe, if we can pull it off, me, Jewel, and Caity can come along too.  It'd be fun, you know."

Harry grinned at Kent.  "Come off it," he said, laughing a little.  "You guys have your own families to get to, and it won't be that big of a deal for me anyway."

Being a bit more perceptive after his cup of coffee was drained, he said, "We're part of your family, whether you want us to be or not.  And we didn't want to go back to our families for a while, we just saw them in November for Thanksgiving," Kent added, making a face.  "We wanted to spend this break together, with the four of us."

Harry put the notebook aside, and matched Kent's surprisingly serious tone.  "You guys sure about this?"

Kent nodded.

Harry sighed.  Reluctantly, but not knowing what else to do, he said, "Then we're off to London."

**decisions**

**end**

**A/N:** And so ends part two!  This is a slow build-up, but I assure you it's worth it ^.~ If you want me to e-mail you when a new chapter is up, leave your e-mail address in a review ^-^

~ Jedi Cosmos ~


	3. of a certain headmaster

**Author's Note:** Here's part three!  Finally!

**of**

**a certain headmaster**

The school day had gone relatively quickly for Harry.  He was getting ready to leave when Kent and Caity caught up to him, both with grins playing on their faces.

"What are you planning?" Harry asked flatly, his suspicious eyes switching from one to the other.

"We're going all together," Kent said.  "To England."

"Right…" Harry said slowly.  "I thought we already agreed on that – "

"But that's not all!" Caity exclaimed, looking excited.

Harry was really quite tempted to tell that he really didn't want to know, but not giving him the chance, Caity revealed, "We're going on a world tour, too!"

In the middle of the hallway, with students bustling to get either in or out, the three stood there, stock still, and it was almost as if they were standing still in time as well; for there was no sound for the rest of the hustle going on around them that penetrated their thoughts and ears and minds – Kent and Caity smiling and happily waiting for Harry's burst of excitement, Harry staring at the two with a dumbfounded expression – before the sound suddenly seemed to return, full blast, and they could all feel the shoves of the rushing students from each side.

"Are you both _crazy_?" Harry asked, still staring dumbly.  "Why are we going to do that?"

"Because," Caity said, "I've already gotten permission from the headmaster.  He says that it's perfectly fine with him that his top students go away for a few months.  And," she added, with the air of Santa pulling out toys for children out of his hat, as she brandished a manila folder, "it's completely paid for."

Taking the folder in astonishment, Harry looked at the smug expressions on Caity and Kent's faces before mumbling, "Well…it sounds like fun…."

Caity beamed at him.  "You just have to go see Professor Riddle."

"Riddle's actually letting us go through with this?"

"He wants you to meet him right away," Kent said, pushing Harry towards the staff offices.  "Now!"

***

Wondering how in the world that Kent and Caity could always manage to make simple things so complicated, Harry sat in the office of Professor Tom Marvolo Riddle, the headmaster of their school, the Nicholas Flamel Academy of Science and Technology.  The room was large, the walls of scarlet red and highlighted with gold – red and gold being their school colors, of course – and their mascot, a lion.  Harry was riveted by these colors, their emblem, but no one really understood why – they were just their school colors.

Harry was a very good student in school, one of the top.  Everyone was nice to him, he got along with them, but the only people he'd really become friends with was Kent, Caity, and Jewel.  He didn't play any school sports, but he had signed up for martial arts when Kent had, so therefore had a blue belt in Ikido, though he hadn't entered any tournaments.  He played a prank every once in a while, and although a good student, was carefree in attitude.  Riddle had always known that, so why was he getting himself involved now, of all times?

Harry felt a slight sinking feeling in his stomach.  He didn't quite find himself feeling fond of Professor Riddle – there was just something strange about him that Harry couldn't place….

Harry stood as the man entered right then, smiling as he did so.  Professor Riddle was tall, and had dark eyes and pale skin.  He entered quietly, and sat quietly across from Harry.

  
"Hello, Professor," Harry said cheerfully.  He held up the envelope.  "Kent and Caity told me that you wanted to talk to me about this?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter," Professor Riddle nodded, watching Harry as he sat uncomfortably in is seat.  "They tell me plans of a tour are in mind?"

"Sir," Harry replied with a laugh.  "Sir, I just want to go to England for break – "

"Nonsense, Mr. Potter," Professor Riddle said, in his lilting English accent.  His eyes, a decadent black, were boring into him.  "Nonsense.  You will go on this tour as discussed with Mr. Kent Stuart and Miss Caity Penn.  I would like for you – to sort of, how shall I say this," Professor Riddle had leaned back in his chair, his hands idly folded near his mouth, half a smile flourishing.  "There's something I need you to do for me."

"What is it, sir?" Harry asked curiously, perking in his seat.  Hmm…maybe this would be something interesting after all….

"England will be the last stop on your trip, and you'll have as much time as you want to arrange the flight back for whenever you want.  I need you to find a Professor Albus Dumbledore – "

"Dumbledore?"

"Yes."

Harry raised an eyebrow before reaching quickly into his backpack's pocket to grab a pen; then he scribbled the name onto the back of his hand.

Professor Riddle watched him skeptically and with quirk of his brow, commented, "At times, Mr. Potter, I really _do_ wonder why you were chosen class President."

Harry laughed at this, and replied with a grin, "Well, Professor, then you know maybe half of what I feel.  I hadn't even known I'd been nominated until Professor Sans was telling me I had a meeting to hold to organize the new student staff because I had won."

Riddle smiled again.  It didn't reach his eyes.  "So.  Find Professor Dumbledore for me.  You'll meet someone who knows, I'm sure."  His smile faded, and he leaned closed, his eyes burning through him now.  "I cannot impress the necessity that you reach Dumbledore.  There can be no chance taken of you not doing so, you understand?"

Harry, taken aback, asked, "Why?  And what do I tell him?"

"He'll tell you," Riddle corrected.  "You just get there alive, boy, that's all that matters."  There was a short pause, before Riddle's cool smile graced his features once more.  "Figuratively speaking, my boy.  Mr. Stuart and Miss Penn are more informed on the matter than you are, and shall inform Miss Smith and yourself later on.  I presume you have better places to be."

"Of course I do," Harry replied with a grin.  He stood, but then stopped and turned to the old – but somehow, young – headmaster.  "Thank you very much, sir.  I really appreciate this."

Riddle waved the gratitude away, taking his eyes off of the student and returning to the papers on his desk.  "No trouble, dear boy.  No trouble at all."

***

It was September the twenty-third.

Yesterday had been June the twenty-second.

Tomorrow would be June the twenty-fourth.

And everyday, he would somehow find himself here.

The weather was gorgeous, not at all reminiscent of what the weather was like that day in the past.

Sirius sighed, closing his eyes tightly and trying to breathe in the fresh air without feeling that ever-consistent pang that he just hadn't been able to get rid of from two years ago.

When he reached his destination, he found a small, luscious garden of color and vibrant life – so much what he had been like, before that day….  The path was made of smooth, black stones with white cracks, and there were lilies and roses and an assortment of beautiful spring colors.  Overhead, a large and ancient willow tree served to shelter the small paradise, keeping it covered from the prying eyes of the creatures in the forest – protected from all but those who knew exactly where to find it.

Sirius walked by, not noticing anything but the gravestone in front of him.  Stopping in front of it, he took it all in.

It was a black marble headstone, words engraved in thick, pearly white lettering.  It was simple on the outside, but if one looked closely, one would see intricate emerald green lines running through the marble; elegant and slick.

Savior of the Magical World 

_Heir of Gryffindor_

_The-Boy-Who-Lived_

_Son of Lily and James Potter_

_HARRY JAMES POTTER_

_(1980-1997)_

It was a gorgeous work of art.

Everyday, he would find himself here.

Sirius hated it.

**a certain headmaster**

**end**

**A/N:** And so ends part three.

Now for the plot.  I have a few things to reveal to you, so stick around for the rest of my babble, if you please, to find out just a teensy bit more.

Chapter three has been written for scratch no less than four times.  This chapter was a mix of two. The reason I'm going so painstakingly slow with this fic is because it's got an intricate part and I want to make sure all things fit as I go along.

A lot of reviewers seem confused.  How does Harry remember the Dursleys, but not Hogwarts?  After this chapter, I'm sure some of you are thinking, "Noo, Harry, what are you DOING?  Riddle's going to KILL you, get away, get away!"  Or maybe not.  Or maybe you're wondering whether Riddle is really the Riddle that became Voldemort.  Haha.  Well, I have just ONE thing to say! *goes into Dobby-mode*: He's not He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named NOR is he the real Tom Riddle!  *goes and beats her head against the keyboard*

There's a really big clue.  Okay.  Shutting up now.

Anyway, for those of you that are confused about that and the Dursleys and all – don't bother being so, it's hopeless to figure it out until more info is given.  And they're not mistakes or anything, I know exactly what I'm doing.

OH!!  I FORGOT!!  WAHAHAHA who else is seeing HP: CoS opening day?  I'm going to a 7:05 pm showing and I can't wait!  My friends and I are planning and preparing for a four-hour wait in line, right after school.  Thank God it's a Friday!  And three days after my 16th b-day!  Ah, life is good!  :D

Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and will stick with for the ride!  I'd like to thank everyone who had reviewed – when I started writing this for a break from the Phoenix Gate, I had no idea it would turn out like this!

If you would like to be notified of new chapters or updates for my fan fiction, please leave your e-mail address in a review or e-mail me so I can add you to my mailing list.  Thanks!

~ Jedi Cosmos ~


	4. sorrows and regrets

**Author's Note:** Here's part four!  Hehe, even  more mind boggling….

**of**

**sorrows and regrets**

Remus Lupin let himself in through the door, knowing it was unlocked.  The owner of the large manor probably wouldn't have blinked if someone had walked in and stolen anything anyway – so it was pointless to raise the issue.  Remus sighed, shutting the door behind him and rolling his shoulders slightly.

He went towards the living room, past the winding staircase, to find his old friend lying on a large couch and staring up at the ceiling chandelier, looking ever so thoughtful.  Despite that, Remus could see the emptiness in the other man's eyes, and felt another sigh coming on.

Sighing.  It was the only thing he could seem to do since that day.

He pulled around a chair and sat beside his friend, crossing his arms.

"Remus."

"Sirius."

Sirius turned his face towards Remus, not bothering to follow usual hospitalities, but rather, flatly asked, "What do you want?"

"Only to speak with you."

"I'd rather not," Sirius snapped, turning his face back to the ceiling.  "Just leave."

"Have you been eating well?" Remus asked dryly, not waiting for an answer before standing and heading towards the kitchen, on the other half of the large living room.  "Granted, I can understand not wanting to eat the food you yourself make, but – "

"Shut up!" Sirius said, "just be quiet."

"Okay," Remus consented amicably, wryly nodding his head.  In silence, he went on and opened the fridge, rummaging through the contents that he himself had put there, and took out a loaf of bread and cheese.  Bringing it to the counter and making plain sandwiches, his eyes trailed back to the forlorn figure that was Sirius.

Taking the plate to him, Remus heavily sat down beside him and looked at Sirius with a profound gravity, and Sirius stared back at him, eyes empty.

"You mustn't do this to yourself," Remus said sadly, his words laced with grief.  "I have lost one member of my family.  I fear I'm losing the second."

Sirius's eyes still stared, still empty, and the sight made Remus want to fall to the floor and scream his frustration.  Just as he was about to stand to go make dinner, Sirius began to speak, in a slow, quiet and emotionless voice.

"The boy that I loved is gone.  He—he had given me the strength to escape Azkaban, the incentive to live, day by day—gone.  He's gone, and nothing will bring him back."

Sirius turned his eyes away from Remus now.  "I didn't want to believe it.  I'd taken Fawkes and Hedwig out, following them as they flew.  I asked them to find Harry.  They were lost for days.  We traveled continents—I apparated us, and we searched in other places."

Remus was stunned—he had never known Sirius went looking for Harry.  He sensed the other man had more to say, so he waited.

"Sometimes we found boys that looked like Harry, and sounded like Harry, about the right age.  Some had his black hair, some had his face, others had something resembling his eyes.  I don't remember what his eyes were like anymore, Remus."

"Sirius," Remus said, and despite his willing to stay calm and collected, his voice cracked, "Sirius, when was the last time you went out looking?"

"Earlier this week," Sirius mused, his eyes still shining black and empty.  "We found a boy—_so_ much like Harry, green eyes and black hair.  His face looked the same.  But he ran away when he read the note.  I'd still like to believe that was him."

"Sirius," Remus repeated, in shock at his friend.  Had Sirius been doing this the past two years?  Trying to find Harry, their poor dead Harry, with Fawkes and Hedwig?  Remus couldn't imagine the pain of having to look young boys with Harry's features in the face—the memory was too painful, too much, for Remus to face.

"Listen to me, Sirius," Remus said, regaining control over his shattering thoughts.  "Listen.  Harry died for us.  He died saving us.  His last words were—"

Sirius's eyes were black, lead pools once more, and he had stood.  "His last words to us were inconsequential!  That boy died with Voldemort whispering his dark, filthy curses into his ear—he did not deserve that, Remus, he did not!"

"I know he didn't.  We were all there; we saw it happen, Sirius.  You cannot believe that any single one of us wished such a fate on Harry, but he did it for us."  Remus watched his friend pace helplessly.  "Can you not understand the sacrifice he made for us?"

Sirius stopped and faced Remus, angrier than Remus had ever seen him.  "He cursed us.  He cursed _me_, and maybe that is what no one else can understand.  I can see the Weasleys.  Dumbledore and McGonagall, the other teachers.  The students—his classmates and his friends.  You.  They still grieve as well.  He has cursed us all."  He suddenly seemed deflated, and sat down again, his head hanging forward listlessly.  "What _I_ cannot understand is how I failed them.  The three of them…one by one, by one…all to Voldemort."

"Only two were felled by his wand," Remus reminded his friend softly.

"And one felled by another," Sirius said wearily.  "Remus, please leave."

Remus stood and shook his head, pushing aside his sadness in the face of his best friends' and preparing for the night.  "No.  It's much too early.  I invited the Weasleys and Hermione for dinner.  What shall I cook?"

*     *     *

"You've got to be kidding me," Kent said blankly.  He turned his airplane ticket sideways.  "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means that we're late," Harry said, annoyed, taking the ticket from Kent's hands.  "It means we're going to miss our stupid flight."

"What's got you in a bad mood?" Kent asked Harry, looking infinitely cheerful as he did so, following his friend through the airport.  Jewel and Caity followed them from behind.

"I didn't want to fly from New York to LA, Kent," Harry reminded him wryly as they walked.  "I wanted to go in the _opposite_ direction, to London."

"You'll get there soon enough," Kent scoffed.  "Tokyo's going to be fun, Harry.  Try to enjoy it while you can."

"As if New York isn't bad enough in the winter," Harry grumbled.  LA was horrible.  Of course there was no snow, but so much traffic!  So many people trying to travel to their families to spend the holidays with them, even though there was still a couple weeks.  Harry fought down a sigh—and found that fighting down a longing for a family was not as easy.

"Well, here's the gate.  And we still have half an hour," Jewel said, plopping down.  "Want me to pick up something to eat?"

"Save it," Caity said, sitting down beside Jewel.  "I'm not hungry.  Maybe thirsty."

"Same," Kent agreed.

"So what drinks do you guys want?  I'm getting water, Caity—"

"Sprite."

"—and Kent—"

"A coke."

"Harry?"

"I'll have water, thanks."

"No problem."  Jewel went off to find a vendor.

Harry sighed, and sat down, wishing he was on the plane already.  He liked the feeling of being very high up, and felt uncomfortable being jostled by the crowds.  At least he felt warm and cozy.  The black jeans were as normal as ever, along with his plain black casual shoes, but he had recently gotten a cotton, bottle-green turtleneck that he wore under his thick leather jacket.  He was also wearing his sun-glasses, just for the sake of it.  It made him feel better that people could look at him and he would be a blank slate to them.  Anyone would clearly see into his thoughts through his eyes.

Jewel returned, handing each their requested beverage, and they waited and talked animatedly for the remaining ten minutes, when a voice over the intercom said, "Now boarding flight 342, Los Angeles to Tokyo.  Now boarding."

Kent was staring confusedly at his ticket again, so Harry told him, "That's us.  Come on, let's go."

**sorrows and regrets**

**end**

**A/N:** Hmph.  I don't like that conversation between Remus and Sirius, it seems too melodramatic.  And not really as emotional as it should be.  Puh… I'm not writing very well at all.  I'd like to hear your theories though.  Some of them are quite interesting!  Happy New year!

If you would like to be notified of new chapters or updates for my fan fiction, please leave your e-mail address in a review or e-mail me so I can add you to my mailing list.  Thanks!

~ Jedi Cosmos ~


End file.
